Bitcoin Idiot Guide

The Cure I Found

One summer day I walked into a doctor office and got a script for 120x 80mg OxyContin....
At the time I had a wife (my high school sweetheart) and we were getting used to being parents to our son who was 2 years old at the time. I first started doing opiates recreationally when I was 15. Almost 20 years ago. That, along with anything else I could get my hands on. And for a very long time, the bouncing between drugs method to being a highly functional addict worked perfectly. Sure, I had a few instances where I’d get a couple hundred 10mg yellow norcos and binge on them enough to experience some mild withdrawals, but I was always able to be done when I ran out. It was my once or twice a year treat I’d do after the first snow fell onto Detroit. I’d lock myself in a room and play video games.
I would DJ downtown at the clubs throughout my twenties, and got it in pretty hard. Ain’t no party like a Detroit party... It was the rave scene. Which was still going strong in the D back when I was first introduced to it in 2002. I was a kid in a candy store - mixing savage amount of drugs for about 15 years straight. We would always carry this vile filled to the top, containing cocaine, MDMA, 2C-i and ketamine. That vile was what me and my boy (who was my partner in both DJaying and crime) would consider our nightly driver, and we perfected its ratio as if we were working on the cure for fucking cancer. This of course was including whatever other drugs we could get our hands on because after all, there are starving kids in China.
For the longest time in that scene it was all just partying and candyflipping. Hundreds of nitrous tanks, psychedelics, ethenogens, phenethylamines, trimethylamines and girls 😍. Sex drugs and techno. The only thing that was missing in excess were the opiates. Even at the after hours clubs, where anything goes, they still wouldn’t allow open opiate use. I should have taken that as a huge sign. When criminals don’t even tolerate junkies that says a lot.
By the time I was 28 I had made a lot of money dealing drugs, weed and selling thousands of nitrous balloons balloons at parties. We’d take our money and put 20% overhead toward the next party and this went on for years. I would say nitrous oxide was the drug that crossed me over to the dark side. They call it hippy crack for a reason. Despite that, I had my house paid off. Three ridiculously loud vehicles paid off. Campers, boats you name it. I had it all and I completely got away with it too. After one too many binges it was time I hung up my decks and headphones. I squirted one into my wife and I was ready to grow up. I was tapped out.
I’ll admit I wasn’t ready to be a dad. I tried my hardest to be clean. I did it for the first 8 months of his life. But I couldn’t run my medical marijuana business and be a stay at home dad without cocaine. Especially with a 20 year hangover. And cocaine makes people insufferable and sleep deprived. Then the alcohol got bad too. I crashed a couple times and eventually got a DUI.
Being the model addict I was determined to beat the system. “They can’t deny a prescription”, I thought. I was determined to stay fucked up. So in August I see my probation officer with my OxyContin script in hand. And before I show him he says, “You’re done. You passed all your drug tests (phew!) and haven’t been a pain in my ass, so enjoy the rest of your summer”
Sometimes I wonder where I’d be if I just tossed that script away. I certainly wouldn’t be writing this living out of a 2004 beat up Impala. But there’s no going back now. My ex who hilariously decided to become a cop had enough of me once our shared last name made it into the system. I came home one day to a note and my family was gone. Just me and my things.... and 120x 80mg OxyContin....
By the time the bottle was gone I was already lining up my dope. I forgot to mention that I always dabbled with a couple packs here and there throughout my party days. I actually shot dope when I was 16 and my ex wife (who was just my high school sweetheart then) found out and warned me then... “Opiates or me”. In hindsight, I always knew she left because of that script. But I played the victim at the time because you all know what time it was...
Nothing numbs pain like heroin. So instead of doing the right thing, I slept. I had enough money to support that habit for three years. Within a month I got up to 3 grams of tan powder per day. Just snorting it tho... you know... because I didn’t want to be a junkie... lol
My partner in crime and his girl were already one year in. They showed me the ropes and eventually when I lost custody of my son they helped me tie off. To this day I close my eyes and say “mmmm” when I see blood rush back into a syringe. Slowly we melted away from everything we loved. And the dope started getting whiter...
I remember the first time I shot fentanyl. I woke up in a bathtub with eyes staring at me in horror. And the only thing I said was “give me more”. Only my buddy laughed. He’ll always be my evil twin and I’ll always be his. We all got fired from our jobs. I was supporting us all with my harvests until my buddy got his monthly insurance payout check and he’d reciprocate. Eventually we realized (after his girl crashed the car a few times) that we needed to level off. Every boy needs a girl after all.
Enter crack. There’s nothing in the world that will exponentially make you use more dope faster than smoking crack all day. Our daily order became one ball of each. We became fiends. Racing thru the drugs. Accusing each other of stealing our hits. Carpet surfing. My buddy’s girl started tricking behind his back. The spots got darker and grimier. The bandos and traps smelled of death. Sometimes we couldn’t wait til we got home and we’d get stuck in the traps for days. Walk in with cash and walk out with the trauma of seeing someone OD and just get rolled under the floorboards. That was the moment I woke up. This is not me. That was someone’s daughter. Just thrown away like trash.
Didn’t stop me from figuring out what the deep web had to offer though. Finally I could just stay home and never have to see that horrible shit again. I found a vendor that was perfect and for a year I sat in bed shooting pure fentanyl and fishscale. God bless bitcoin and darknetmarkets. I got into all the analogues too. FuFent, BuFent, tried doing 4isoButryl to quit. It made me violently ill. And eventually my vendor hit me up and said he had a line on carfentanil. I told him no way.... at first. Then he assured me it was properly cut.
He sent me a tester. I sorted out a tiny little bump. Understand, by this time I was up to 3 grams of his “pure” (ya right) fentanyl HCL per day. At least that’s what his listing said. When I snorted that CF I fell out for 36 hours. All I remember is a massive tingling sensation cover my body and I was unconscious. Fast forward two months later and I was shooting 50mg of this premixed CF twice per day....
And then the DEA shut down the big three and suddenly he was gone.... Fuck My Life.... So just to let you all know, back then the word carfentanil wasn’t on the news describing imagery like tranquilized elephants. Nobody knew what the fuck it was. Let alone where to get it.... I had to resort to banging 5 grams of street fentanyl per day just to stay well... Finally I realized that this was no longer manageable. It didn’t matter if I grew a forest of weed to sell.
So I started my research and diligently sourced a rapid drug detox center in Royal Oak, MI. They touted a cure that involved putting me under anesthesia and flushing me out with Narcan and vitamins. “You will come out of this feeling like you’re in week 6!!” they said... motherfuckers....
So if you ever want to know what the precipitated withdrawal feels like coming off carfentanil look this place up. I cannot begin to even describe the agony of this experience. I literally have PTSD from it. Not only had these doctors never heard of carfentanil, they just rather assumed I was a stupid junkie who didn’t know what he was on.
I don’t remember this part personally, but they said that when they administered the Narcan I immediately went into a seizure. They administered some kind of sedative to bring me out of that, and when they did they told me I flopped around like a fish unconscious, until I woke up out of the anesthesia and they had to knock me out again. The only thing I remember is having these insane, physically impossible dreams. Like roads swirling around my head and falling thru the middle of them. Molecules of fire being shaved off by swinging pendulums. Just the weirdest craziest imagery I never thought was possible. Withdrawal dreams...
When I awoke I had ataxia. I had shit myself. Pissed myself. And god was electrocuting my soul. The pain was at apex this existence would allow. I managed to roll off the gurney and for some reason just started crawling. The nurses tried stopping me but my fight or flight kicked in. After 18 hours of hell they wheel chaired me to my nurse monitored hotel room where I had my suboxone stash.
That was the height of my addiction leaving that rapid detox. 5 grams of dope, a ball of crack and 5 Xanax bars was my daily purchase. I sold all my cars. Sold my house. Pawned every last one of my things I thought were so important. Went from 215lb to 125lb. I tried intentionally overdosing 3 separate times. But it’s really hard to overdose when you have that kind of tolerance. Water can only hold so much fentanyl, and a needle can only hold so much. Nothing is more disappointing in life than waking up from a suicide attempt. The shame and embarrassment of even trying just eats you up.
I’m not going to bore you with every home detox attempt, treatment center and methadone clinic. Back and fourth from dope to subs. Got up to 225mg methadone. Back to dope. Back to rehab. Back to subs. Back to dope. Rehab. Subs. Dope. Rehabs. Subs. Etc... Six USA treatment centers overall. Years of this. Three years of lowering my tolerance with each treatment. Relapsing when I couldn’t take it anymore. Giving it my all the next time.
Somehow I landed the love of my life during all this. My friends old gal. We went way back. Joked we really should be together. She decides to jump into my situation when I was 125lbs. She literally left the guy she lived with to save my life. I had never felt that before. Being wanted like that. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t be here. She stood by the last two years. Run my baths and try her little heart out to get me through it. Well over 30 at home detox attempts she’d stand by me for 3-4 days and her heart would sink as she watched me just give up and head to the dope spot. It makes me sick just typing it. I tried kicking her out and ending things many times to rid the guilt of doing this to her. But this little thing wouldn’t give in. So I didn’t either. The only reason I include this is because as cheesy as it sounds, love really is the strongest drug in the world. Don’t worry that’s not the cure tho lol
So at my second to last treatment center out in California I meet this dude. Huge body builder but gentle giant. Sweetest guy I’ve ever met. He starts telling me about this crazy treatment he did down in Mexico that cured him. Naturally I ask, well why the fuck are you here if it cured you? “Well it cured my opIate addiction, but now I’m here for benzos and alcohol”.... lol
I let it stew for a while. I had heard of Ibogaine a long time ago and always thought it was some bullshit junkie myth. Ya like I’m gonna go sit in some tribal ceremony and let a witch doctor heal me with voodoo plants.
Then I hit rock bottom....
Fuck it! I’ve literally tried everything else.
Side note: I just want to add that up until this point I had always been a vehement atheist. I prayed to Sagan and put all my faith into science. But after living in a bathtub for a quarter of the last three years, I was starting to see myself begging god to make this stop more and more.
So I made a deal. If this shit cures my physical addiction, and physiologically repairs all the broken neurons, and rewires all the synapses in my brain like the research says it does, then I will not only believe in god, but I will know that he heard my cries.
So I find this beautiful clinic. At this point mom is paying for me to go because I’m homeless and broke and have absolutely nothing. She shells out the $4500usd bucks, praying for a miracle.
So I feel like a total asshole walking into this resort. I’m used to USA rehabs that are punishment based and have rules and treat you like children. This place was staffed with highly professional on site nurses and doctors catering to you like a baby. Fucking beach view. Personal chef. Netflix/Xbox/PS4. They provide free cigarettes!? Like where the fuck had this rehab been? They can’t find a vein on my body I haven’t destroyed so I have to get a central line put in for my IV saline bags. I was there for 5 days and they kept me well with 725mg of morphine per day. Then they tested my heart with an EKG monitor and I’m cleared for take off.
Suddenly it hits me. What the fuck has happened to my life.... I am in MEXICO 🇲🇽 with a PICC line inserted damn near into my heart, and I’m about to eat 25mg/ kilogram of body weight of pure Ibogaine HCL. Somehow I just knew inside that this was the end. That drugs got me into this mess and drugs will get me out. I mean it’s the perfect ending right?
Well upstairs to my room I go. Test dose. Feel nothing. Hour later. Flood dose 1. Starting to feel shaky. I sneak downstairs and get a few cigarettes in me. And I had to rat on myself because the time I was done I was FUCKED UP. Nurses helped me back to my bed. Scolded me in Spanish and gave me my 2nd flood dose. I’m vibrating now. Vision is barely possible. My body becomes a noodle. My bones are just vibrating. But there was no pain. Nurse comes in again. “Time for next dose”.... “ Are you sure dude? This shits reallly kicking in. “Here swallow. Close your eyes. Listen to your headphones. Flood dose 3 down the hatch.
My body ceased to exist. The vibrations of the universe shook loose every last opiate in my body. I felt like warm cream. I go unconscious. The visions appear. First my fiancé. Just appears out of a black void and looks at me. She starts balling. And then her skin gets older and she starts dying and decaying in my arms.
This goes on and on and on for about an hour and a half. My son. My ex wife. My mom. My dad. My grandma. My friends. Everyone I have ever loved in my life. I watched die in my arms. Which let me tell you is one thing to read in someone else’s story on a screen. But I cannot emphasize the gravity of what this did to me. It was payback for making everyone I have ever loved watch me die in front of them. Finally I understood.
Finally back to reality but suuuuper fucked up. My body is humming so loud I can hear it. Every time I close my eyes I see my son and I start crying. I hadn’t cried like that in almost 20 years. And I couldn’t stop. My eyes just wept for another half hour.
So that’s the subjective trip. But what does Ibogaine really do to the brain? Neuroscientists still don’t know. But they know it works. They know it resets the brain to a pre-addicted state. Research 18-MC and 18-HC and you will see that the scientific community is working on this Ibogaine analog to develop the same effect but without the trip. I have mixed feelings on this. If you ask the people who go through it they will claim god was in that experience. But that’s not good enough for some people. But I was willing to do anything. And I don’t think the god experience should be removed.
Ibogaine worked for me. It has been working for addicts for over 40 years. Maybe longer in tribal communities. Unfortunately, it works so well that rich addicts are using it as a get out of jail free card to just lower their tolerance and go right back out. But it is the miracle cure - just buried in myths, and advocates of suboxone and a bunch of other stuff that never worked for me.
That doesn’t mean Ibogaine should be a last resort. If I did Ibogaine when I first heard about it I would have erased half a decade of hell. So all I want to say to you is that it is the real deal. There are many reputable clinics in Mexico offering this treatment. The one I went to has successfully detoxed over 2,000 patients without a single incident. When I was there I personally witnessed 12 people kick opiates.
The main thing about it though isn’t the fact that it completely erases the acute withdrawals. It’s the fact that after you come out of it, you are you again. Your mental state is clear. You don’t have that cloud of “I’m a piece of shit” following you around. You actually feel excited and happy. No dealing with months of depression. And this place prescribed me Lyrica and sent me home with 3 booster doses of the Ibogaine total alkaloid extract. Which is different from the pure HCL extract you get for the big trip.
So far three weeks later I haven’t even touched my boosters. I walked back across the border on day 2 off opiates. And the day I left I also got to smoke the infamous Bufo Alvarius toad venom, which contains 5-MEO-DMT. I won’t go far into that because that was a very personal experience I got to have. But you can read about those experiences elsewhere. And let me tell you. That was the last puzzle piece in my head that allowed me to let go of all the evil shit I had encountered. I was finally forgiven.
Unfortunately my ex isn’t as forgiving as god... I got some work to do!
Be careful ya’ll. For those that got here, thanks for letting me share. And thank you for helping me stay clean. Love ya reddit.
I just want to say that Ibogaine is the cure for physical addiction / the broken mental state that lingers for months into recovery. Which in many cases is what causes people to relapse within the first 12-18 months of recovery. Ibogaine is a shortcut to the path of recovery that is lifelong. If you go home after this treatment to the same life, with the same environment, same people and seek no after care / support, you will relapse.
Also, thank god we live in a time where suboxone and methadone allow people to have their lives back. Recovery isn’t a competition. I had 8 months clean times thanks to suboxone. But I was still addicted to a legal opioid. I didn’t have a big boy job like others that required me to be well. Being a dope fiend was my job. I recognize that despite losing EVERYTHING, I was very fortunate and lucky all things considered. Unfortunately, to all the methadone/ bupe users inquiring about Ibogaine, you must be ~40-60 days off long acting opioids in order to do this treatment. If you are stable and have your life back then keep tapering down. Do not throw away your recovery to do Ibogaine.
God bless you all and thank you for the kind words and wonderful responses. I know it was a long one, so I am truly touched by the responses 🥰
submitted by funkyastroturf to OpiatesRecovery [link] [comments]

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